The Breath that I Breathe
by RedxAsari
Summary: "Everyone called me a sociopath. Hell they might be right, but do sociopaths hold the deaths of comrades over themselves like a black cloud of guilt?" Based off Saints Row 3, but has elements of Saints Row 2. Russian female Boss.
1. The Saints Were Gone

**A/N. As with every fanfiction out there. I neither own the Saints Row franchise, nor gain any profits from this story. All rights go to Volition. **

**This was just something I thought up while taking a break from an original fiction I'm working on. It has no Beta, but I could probably use one if there are any volunteers. The frequency of updates will totally depend on how it's received. Reviews help me grow as a writer and are much appreciated. Enjoy :)**

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The Saints were gone. It was subtle at first, pride and self respect were so great in measure no one noticed it trickling away, little by little. You could hardly call us a gang anymore. After all the other gangs had been obliterated from Stilwater, we got lazy. Complacent in the comfort the throne brought. Even heists were becoming more and more mundane, almost more like a press spectacle than a crime. We weren't criminals anymore, we were sellouts.

I watched it happen, but only did exactly that, watched as our credibility was torn to shreds. As every scrap of respect I held for myself, and my organization blew away with the wind. Anytime I would mention my misgivings, it always came back to the money. Our name was worth millions in this city. All the merchandise, and ridiculous commercials and movie deals were an excellent source of cash flow to fund the crew. I never understood why I let the money be an excuse for me. I was the fucking leader of the Third Street Saints. If I didn't have money I damn well found a way to get some, legal or not.

Although I rarely ever didn't have money, and lots of it. My grandmothers family owned the largest vodka distillery in all of Russia. After my time lying comatose in bed; I not only woke to find out my gang was nonexistent, but also that my grandmother had finally succumbed to death after years of fighting with cancer. I was devastated, but I also inherited the families fortune. Even if the money felt wrong, I desperately needed it. The money helped rebuild the Saints and after we were back on our feet I still had money left to burn.

I had enough money to fund the Saints even in death, but I sacrificed our reputation for a cash flow we didn't even need. The others were getting restless as well. Gat was becoming more and more volatile. Like the lack of violence our new life enabled made him restless which made him angry. He would get so frustrated he almost went as far as a to take out his anger on me, and I didn't blame him.

Shaundi had grown immeasurably as a person in the last few years. Gone were the dreads, replaced by shimmering brown locks, that weren't at all damaged from years of harsh dreads. She switched her grungy pot head clothing for more appropriate outfits, classy and yet still appealing. They covered just enough to let my mind wander, and to be utterly distracting. I found myself watching her more often, studying the way her muscles moved in her deceptively slight frame. The twin dimples on her lower back just above her belt line would completely enamour me. Which was strange since I considered myself asexual my entire life until then, and the rapid change scared me more than anything.

It wasn't just her clothes that changed, but her personality as well. She'd grown bitter, hardened by the gang life. That opened the door for her and I to become closer. Once she left all the drug nonsense behind I was more willing to see her for who she really was, and I found I liked it so much more. Perhaps almost too much.

There had been mutterings amongst the lieutenants, not that they planned to mutiny against me, but their discontent was growing along with my own. Pierce stayed ever presently oblivious to the growing discomfort around him, enjoying the money that kept rolling in.

I should have known something was wrong with the heist. The way the bank employees looked me over like an animal would its prey. I could feel there eyes on me, sizing me up. I swore I could almost hear their fingers twitching towards there firearms, waiting for a signal, but I had become lazy. My gun fighting skills were rusty with disuse, but after a few shots muscle memory kicked in, and it was as natural as breathing. I reveled in the fight, resorting to hand to hand any chance I could. Firearms weren't my favorite weapons. I felt like they were a cheat, when I could rely on my strength and skill to do the job just as well. Unfortunately, many of my opponents did not share those beliefs, and you know what they say about bringing a knife to a gun fight.

I got a sick sort of enjoyment from being thrown around, fending for my life on a giant safe tethered precariously by cables probably twenty stories from the ground. Hell, it was more excitement than I'd had since I finished off that Ultor bastard. I wasn't cut out for the cushy and entitled life apparently.

The world started to come into focus right as my face came into contact with the floor of the jail cell. My teeth banged painfully against the inside of my lips, and I could feel blood trickling out of my nose.

"Graceful Boss." The familiar timbre of Gats voice piped up from somewhere beside me. I couldn't see him because I refused to lift my head and fall prey to the nauseousness I knew would overcome me if I stood.

"Shut it Gat, or I will throw up on you." My accent was thicker from the pain and grogginess of being unconscious.

I moved slightly to at least sit up against a wall, and had to fight a rushing wave of nausea from making me lose my stomach. My head injury must be worse than I first thought. It had been a long time since I got a concussion, and there was absolutely nothing I missed about them.

"Are you okay, Boss? They hit you pretty hard." I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my mouth at the sound of Shaundi's voice, so full of concern. Things had been strained between us lately. She doesn't know how I feel about her, and hell, I'm not even sure I know how I feel. I'd distanced myself from her substantially in the last few months. I never paid any mind to it before since the numerous connections were useful, but the constant mentions of her ex's, or the nameless guys she would bring around had begun to eat at something inside me. My jealousy towards them burning brighter with each passing day. As far as I knew she was oblivious to why I had been treating her so coldly, and in return she had lashed out at me in anger.

"I am fine, but if the room would stop spinning that would be great." I made a face. "Hey...how come neither of you got knocked out by the police?"

"I got tased." Gat lifted his shirt to show two angry burn marks in his chest.

"That's nothing. At least they didn't pistol whip you."

"Guess they thought it would be safer for them if you were unconscious. You did annihilate their swat teams." Johnny said as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

I groaned in response and laid my head down on my knees that I had curled protectively into my chest. A cold soothing hand was laid across my exposed neck, causing me to jump at the unexpected contact. Years of fighting for my life left me terribly paranoid. The only thing that kept me from lashing out violently was, I wasn't completely sure my skull wouldn't split if I moved suddenly.

"Easy Boss...I'm just going to relieve the tension in your neck. It should help with that killer headache I bet you've got." I only grunted in approval, and her hand started moving in slow, non threatening circles along the tense muscles of my neck. "Shit Boss. I know you got the hots for her, but stop acting like a pussy just so Shaundi'll rub you neck. I've seen you get clocked worse than that and walk away laughing." My body stiffened at his seemingly harmless jest, and I knew Shaundi felt it under her hand.

"Shut the fuck up Johnny." The temperature dropped drastically with the glacial glare that i could only imagine accompanied her words.

She waited long enough to see if he'd make another smart remark before her hand continued its earlier motion. After a minute or two the vice like grip of pain across my head lessened slightly, at least enough for me to look up without wanting to pass out. I reached back to gently grab Shaundis hand and lowered it to her side. "Thanks Shaundi. I am good now." I refused to meet her gaze, still embarrassed by Johnny's comment, but I gave her a small smile to let her know I appreciated it.

"What happened?" Gat said as he paced around the cell.

"We got arrested." Shaundi quipped.

"No, to us. We traded our dicks in for pussies. Saints name used to mean something."

I knew what he was feeling because we were all feeling it, and I gave him the same bullshit excuse I'd been giving myself. "Our names worth a shit load of money."

He stared at me calmly, almost eerily calm. It was that detachment he got as he sized someone up for a fight. "And it's all about the money, isn't it? You're sweet old lady dying didn't supply you with enough, huh?"

"Oh shit." Shaundi breathed out in a sigh before backing away from us slowly.

I suddenly didn't care that I might not win a fight against Johnny in my current state. His windpipe bowed beautifully beneath the forearm I had suddenly crushed down on his throat. I had him slammed against the wall with my other hand fisted in his hideous jacket. He lashed out by slamming his forehead into my nose, making blood drip freely out of it again. My hold faltered a little as it took me by surprise, but the second he made his move to escape I crashed my fist down across his cheek.

"You may be my best friend Gat, but you know nothing about me or my life before the Saints. And you sure as hell know nothing of my grandmother, so back off." I practically snarled into his face.

I let him go once I was sure he'd calmed down, and the adrenaline I had pumping wore off. The nausea came back with a vengeance and I nearly fell over if it hadn't been for Gat grabbing my arm to steady me. I watched it carefully as I said, "See what you made me do Johnny. I may hurl on your sneakers now." I chuckled as I wiped the blood from my nose on the back of my hand, and looked at it. "Well, I did feel better."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch." He said with grin. It was his version of a peace offering, and as close as I would get to an apology from him. Johnny wasn't much for apologies, but to tell the truth, neither was I.

"Yeah, yeah. Now let go of me. I am not an invalid." I shrugged off his hand and righted myself. The sharp edge of nausea ebbed away , but the headache wasn't going anywhere; at least it was something I could manage.

"Shit Boss. You hit like a mac truck." He said as he rubbed the cheek that was already swelling.

I heard a sigh of relief come from Shaundi. "Oh, thank God."

"Are you alright Shaundi?" I said, not really sure why I asked since nothing happened.

"Am I alright? Oh, I'm great seeing as we're still in this shit hole of a cell, and you two are fighting like children." Gat and I had the decency to look somewhat ashamed, but it didn't last long. "Now, if you guys are finished. Can we try and figure a way out of this please?"

"Well, if it's all about the money just bribe one of the guards." Johnny said.

"It's always about the money, Mr. Gat." A strange feminine voice came from the open door to our cell. Light streamed in from behind her obscuring her face.

I unconsciously moved myself between her and Shaundi. The involuntary movement startled me, but I recovered quickly before it showed on my face.

"Which is precisely why our employer wishes to speak with you." She stepped forward into the light, allowing the entourage behind her to spill into the cramped cell. She had black hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and white sunglasses perched atop her head.

"If you'll indulge us." Another woman completely identical to the first walked in to stand next to her sister. She had pink sunglasses instead of white, but other than she was an exact copy. There was something unnerving to their business like appearances that made the hair on my neck stand up.

I shared a look between Gat and Shaundi, seeking their council, and we all grudgingly agreed. It got us out of jail at least, but I never relaxed. Their introduction may have been amiable enough, but something didn't feel right.


	2. Heights are not your friend

**A/N: Thanks to all who've had the chance to review, favorite, and follow. Since I'm a writer, I'm obviously addicted to feedback. Seriously though. It's my crack. :)**

**As usual, I do not own Saints Row. Only Yeva.**

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If I had known that accepting the strange twins offer would mean we would be dragged 38,000 feet in the air, and cuffed to a chair on a flying machine of death. I would have kindly told them to go fuck themselves. I hate planes, and no I have never had a bad experience on one. I just believe if humans were meant to fly we would have been given wings. I also got horrible air sickness, even the slightest movement of a plane made me want to curl into the fetal position and cry. Bad ass, I know.

The twins, who we'd come to know as Viola and Kiki, were employed by a man named Phillipe Loren. A full of himself, Belgian asshole offering us the chance to "leverage your assets against your lives", or some shit like that. Saying he was part of some multinational organization known as the Syndicate. I instantly had no respect for him. He seemed too much like the type of person who stepped on the backs of others to get where he was. There was no passion for work in his voice, just business. He gave the floor over to the twins, who with rehearsed ease, laid out the logistics of the arrangement they expected me to agree to.

"You may continue to operate the Saints/Ultor media group as you see fit, in exchange for 66 percent of your monthly gross revenue." The twin named Viola said as she pulled up a helpful chart to emphasize her point.

"That is before taxes, of course." The other twin chimed in.

"Of course it is." I laughed in disbelief. "At least Maero had the decency to outright insult me with 80/20. This," I bobbed my head in the direction of the chart. "...is just uninspired."

Lorens business like expression faltered, and his lip curled slightly. He gave a quick nod to the man standing behind me, who responded with a sharp knock to the back of my head. I wasn't sure if my brain could take anymore blows today before it shutdown altogether. I ground my teeth together to keep from groaning in pain. "Listen you french fuck-"

"Please, I am Belgian." Loren said with a flourish of his smoking hand.

"So make yourself a fucking waffle. We're done here." Johnny fired back.

Loren clicked his teeth as he turned his back to us. Looking out the plane window as he took another long drag of his cigarette. "And I had so hoped to come to a rational business arrangement."

A plain looking body guard circled the chairs we sat in, and pulled a gun to Johnny's head. Even though I knew Johnny wouldn't let himself go out like that, a small part of me was worried for his life. Metal groaned against metal when he hauled himself and his chair off the ground to slam into the guards chest. He turned on Loren once he'd knocked the gaurd out, but Loren had already pulled a knife. Johnny barely flinched as it plunged into his stomach. Of course it's not like that's the first time that's happened to him.

He recovered quickly and grabbed Lorens head, smashing into the nearest window. He cut us free with Lorens knife, and yelled at me bail, that he would cover me. I refused to go without him. He was my right hand, and my best friend. There was no me without him, I couldn't go. We dropped down behind cover, the sounds of gunfire filling the air so loud we had to yell to hear each other.

"There's like half a dozen guys, I can take 'em." He said leaning out to check.

"What about the plane?" Shaundi asked.

"I'll fly it back to Stilwater."

"Johnny, you can't even drive stick. How you gonna fly a plane?"

"Details, details. Just cover the Boss. Go, I got this!" Johnny was already up and fighting before we had the chance to argue. Shaundi and I rushed out the open door, and heard it slam behind us. I would have had an easier time fighting Lorens goons if I wasn't trying not to throw up with every bump of turbulence that rocked the plane. To my dismay, I had to rely on Shaundis fighting skills which had gotten substantially better since she decided to let me teach her hand to hand. She wasn't as good as me, not by a long shot, but she got the job done.

We continued to navigate through the planes cargo hold, taking care of any assholes that got in our way. There was a parachute rack next to the intercom button, and I pulled one on. I was not at all looking forward to jumping out of this damn plane. All I could do was throw a parachute on, and pray to God I had put it on right.

I could hear Johnny struggling on his own, over the PA system of the plane. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure he'd make it out of this one. Everyone's luck had to run out sometime, and Johnny had some pretty close calls in his lifetime. Just as I turned to run back up the stairs to Johnny, a violent drop of turbulence swept my feet out from under me. Shaundi and I tumbled down the ramp of the open hatch. I frantically grabbed at anything I could, until my hands found purchase at the lip of the hatch. Shaundi bounced out over my head, but she reached out to me at the perfect time, catching my outstretched hand. I figured myself a strong girl, but I was unprepared for the full force of her weight. It wasn't long before I felt her behin to slip through my fingers.

A cold ball of fear dropped down into the pit of my stomach when she began to plummet through the air. I didn't care anymore that I was scared out of my mind of heights. I didn't care anymore that I had absolutely no idea how to parachute. My mind was blank except for the glaring need to save her.

Debris from the hold of the plane littered the sky, and I could barely make out the glint of Shaundis purple tights in the clutter. I sped through the air, slowly gaining on her flailing form. Once I reached her I scooped her into my arms, cradling her shaky body against me. I reached back for the string I hoped deployed the parachute, and thankfully it did. We slowed to a gently float as we swayed side to side with the wind. She had her face buried in my neck, and I wasn't sure if my heart was racing from the jump, or her breath ghosting across my neck.

"I won't lie. I didn't think you'd make it in time." She mumbled into my neck, the vibrations giving me goose bumps.

"My plans are always working."

"Really Boss. You're going to tell me you planned that?" She raised up to cock an eyebrow at me.

"Of course." I said with mock bravado.

"Sure Boss."

"You sound skeptical. I could drop you, and we could do it again to prove my point." The grip I had on her loosened just enough for her back to drop a bit.

"Oh fuck!" She tightened her hold on my neck and buried her face in my hair. "No, no. I believe you Boss. I believe you. Just don't drop me."

"Good. I was worried." I laughed so hard she bounced against my chest. "Do not worry Shaundi. You're safe with me."

"I know." The surety with which she said those words gave me pause. Given my past, no one was safe around me. I got people killed; like Carlos, Aeisha, and now probably Johnny. Everyone called me a sociopath. Hell they might be right, but do sociopaths hold the deaths of comrades over themselves like a black cloud of guilt?

"Hey Boss?" Shaundis voice broke me out of my thoughts, and then I did something I never thought I would do.

"It's Yeva." I kept my eyes forward. My name had been sacred. It was the one thing I kept for myself, that no one could take from me. It was almost like I was giving her a piece of myself.

"What?"

"My name," I paused to take a deep breath. It was hard enough to say it the first time. "My name is Yeva."

"Yeva." She said slowly, almost like she was trying out how it felt rolling off her tongue. My heart jumped up into my throat as it left her lips. She said it in a way that made it seem like it was made for her. It suddenly felt very hot despite the wind rushing by us in our descent. "It's beautiful." I hummed low in my chest in acceptance of the compliment. She laid her head back down on my shoulder, and gave it a firm squeeze in thanks. She knew me well enough to know not to make big deal out of it, and knew that simple gesture was all I needed.

"Yeva, do you think Johnny made it off the plane?" We both looked over to the plane flying away from us in the distance.

Something inside told me no, but I was never one to take no for an answer. "I really hope so."


	3. Foot, Meet mouth

**Oh my, classes have been annihilating me. I was finally able to do some writing over the holidays. Many thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this, and very many thanks to all those who favorited, followed, and reviewed. :)**

**As always, I do not own these characters (with the exception of Yeva) or the Saints Row franchise. I'm just taking them out for a spin.**

**Enjoy.**

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Our landing was less than ideal. The parachute got stuck on a fire escape ladder, and left us dangling nearly ten feet off the ground. Luckily when we'd been taken into Lorens custody they had not frisked me very thoroughly, and missed the knife I kept strapped in the dip of my lower back. Since my arms were otherwise occupied, Shaundi had to reach back and lift my shirt to gingerly pop the button that held the knife in place. Her fingers tickled the sensitive swoop of my back, raising the tiny hairs on my neck.

Shaundi turned it over and over in her hand, examining the graceful arc of glinting steel juxtaposed against the hand carved ebony handle. She gripped the hilt loosely to test its balance, a small grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. My hands were bigger than hers, so her fingers had to stretch to fit into the worn divets my own had created in the wood. I would have tried to hurry her along so I could get solid ground underneath my feet, but the utter look of appreciation for the blade stopped me.

"Is this actually folded steel? The craftsmanship is impressive." Her words shocked me. Gat didn't even know it was genuine folded steel, and he liked to figure himself a knife connoisseur.

"Yes, it is. My grandmother gave it to me. She said her father used it in the Bolshevik Revolution." She gave a soft hum of approval, and carefully ran her thumb over the blade. "I never really took you for someone who knows about knives."

"I told you. I'm full of surprises." She beamed a smile at me that I couldn't help but return.

"I guess you did. Now quite fondling my knife, so I can put my feet back where their supposed to be. The ground." I nodded my head at the cords that kept us attached to the parachute.

I hadn't really been paying attention to what she said next, but I swore I heard the words; "fondle you later."

My eyes shot open wide, and I opened and closed my mouth. Much like I expect a dying fish would. "Excuse me?"

Shaundi cocked a shaped eyebrow at me in question. "I said, 'fine, as long as I can fondle it later'." Her expression remained confused, but there was certain amusement behind it. "Why? What'd you think I said?"

"Nothing. Would you just fucking cut us down?" There was more anger in my voice than I had intended, but everything was confusing. I had no idea if my best friend was dead or alive, or even where in hell we were. To top it all off I was feeling things I'd never felt before, for Shaundi no less. I knew what attraction was, I had sisters with their fair share of boy troubles. I had just never experienced it for myself, and I thought if I ever did, it would be for someone who was...a little less traveled. I really needed to get down, and put some distance between us so I could at least string two thoughts together without bumbling like an idiot.

All mirth was gone from her at my sudden coarseness. She stared at me, unmoving in my arms. The weight of her gaze made me uncomfortable, like I should apologize for my rudeness. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, she reached up and cut the ropes.

The knife cut through the paracord like it was paper, and we dropped like a rock. The most undignified yelp escaped me at the sudden weightlessness of falling. I hit the ground flat on my back with a dull thud that rattled around in my head. The air was knocked out of my lungs, and I struggled to draw breath. Somewhere during the fall Shaundis legs fell on either side of my waist with her upper body laying flush against mine. On instinct, my hands moved to her hips, and squeezed roughly. She raised up, surprised by the uncharacteristic move, and placed her hands flat on my stomach. It was an odd sort of moment, one we had never shared before, and it scared the absolute shit out of me.

"Get off of me." I said, pushing up against her hands.

"Yeva, I-" There was a new tone to her voice that I'd never heard before, further heightening my panic. Instead of listening to what she had to say, I cut her off.

"Just get off of me. We've got shit to do."

She made a face, but didn't argue with me. Once I was able to stand, I put as much space as was politely possible between us. She gave me a measured look, confusion written all over her face. There was a flash of sadness in her eyes, but it disappeared quickly before I could react to it.

I smoothed out any wrinkles I may have had in my clothes, and started down an unfamiliar street in the hopes of figuring out where the hell we were. Shaundi followed wordlessly beside me. After a few minutes of walking we came upon a disgusting alley. It was filled to the brim with prostitutes, burning trash cans, and unrecognizable filth.

It reminded me of a raunchier Stilwater. Oddly enough, there was an old scuffed up ATM in all the mess that reminded me I'd left my wallet in the getaway car at the Morningstars bank, so I had no money on me. The buttons were so worn I could barely make out the numbers to input the Saints account information. Every amount I put in, the machine came back with insufficient funds. It had been years since I'd seen a notification like that.

"It would seem that Loren has drained all the Saints' money." I said, more to myself than anyone.

"What?! So we're stuck in this shit hole of a city with absolutely no money? Who the fuck does this guy think he is? We're going to kill him, right?" She had begun to pace behind me, throwing her arms about wildly.

"Shaundi, you need to relax."

"Relax? The hell I will. Why are you so calm?" She crossed her arms, and stared me down.

"Because," I put in a different number, and out popped a few thousand dollars. "I am not broke."

She stared at the money as if I'd made it appear out of thin air. "Since when did you learn to hack ATM's?"

"Since never." I folded the money and stuffed it into my pocket before walking towards the mouth of the alley.

"I thought you said that prick Loren drained us, so where'd all that come from?" She had to jog a little to catch up to me.

"I said he drained the _**Saints**._ This is my own personal money. I always kept them separate, just in case."

Just as she was about to respond, my phone started to ring. It was a number I didn't recognize, so I stayed silent as I accepted the call. It was Loren.

"Let the body of Mr. Gat be a message..." His grating accent faded into nothing as my mind repeated that one phrase over and over, drowning out the rest of his long winded speech.

Johnny was dead. My best friend was dead. After everything he had survived, and some arrogant prick is the one who finally does him in.

"Loren has to pay for what he did." Quiet anger burned in Shaundis voice, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out at her. I knew they were friends, but she hadn't known him as long as I had. Shouldn't I be the angry one? Maybe, but I couldn't afford the luxury of feeling anything. There were things that I needed to do, I didn't have time to mourn.

'I know." There was a car sitting at the mouth of the alley, keys still dangling from the ignition. I started driving with no real idea as to where I was going, just moving was comforting.

"Do you know where we are?" I said to Shaundi, breaking the silence.

"I think this is Steelport. I came here for spring break once." The hesitation in her voice wasn't comforting.

"You think? Shaundi, I'm going to need more than that."

"Look, I was really high. Everything is kind of a blur. Just drive, it'll come back to me."

"Fine, but I would feel more comfortable with a weapon. Do you at least know where to get one of those?" She shot me a glare, but I ignored it.

"Look up Friendly Fire in your phone."

"Friendly Fire does not deliver. That is not helpful."

"They have a chain here, you ass. Just use your phones GPS."

The rest of the ride was filled with a heavy silence that smothered any stray thought I might have had of making conversation. Shaundi being upset with me happened on a rather frequent basis, but this time she wasn't just angry. I didn't even have to concentrate to feel the maelstrom of emotion swirling in my passenger seat. She was like a buzzing ball of countless feelings, most of which I probably wouldn't even be able to comprehend, and I had to fight the sudden urge to run for the hills. To distract myself, I took out an old bandana I always kept in my back pocket and absentmindedly began to wipe down the interior of the car.

Guns were significantly more expensive in Steel port, costing a large chunk of the money I had taken out, but the cold steel pressing into my hip gave my mind a sense of peace. The only problem we still had was that the Morningstar were an established gang here, and we would definitely need more firepower than a few pistols to take them out.

"We're going to need bigger than this for taking down Loren. Any ideas?" I said as I checked the safety one more time on the .45 at my hip.

She scoffed, "Yeah, let's raid the guard armory."

I hummed in my throat, running through every scenario possible in my head. It was probably not the smartest idea, but I asked for bigger and the guard armory was definitely bigger.

"Good thinking, Shaundi."

She barked a laugh, checking the resistance of the slide on her decidedly smaller 9mm pistol. "Good one, Boss." She was in the middle of sliding the guns magazine back, when realization struck. The moment made all the more poignant by the harsh snap of the clip as it clicked into place.

"Oh my God. You're serious, aren't you?"

"Of course." I struggled not to laugh at the slack jawed woman in front of me. She was already furious with me, and that would likely not help my situation.

"You've got to be joking me. Do you know how stupid that would be?" She closed the distance between us, speaking in harsh whispers as if we were suddenly being watched.

"You're yelling at me like it was my idea. If I recall correctly, it was yours, yes?" I said, putting some distance between us again by walking to my side of the car.

She huffed in exasperation, moving to the passenger side as she spoke. "Well yeah, but I didn't actually think you'd be crazy enough to take on the military."

I smirked at her over the hood of the car. "Tsk tsk, Shaundi. You thought wrong." I sat down in the seat, turning the key in the ignition, and waited patiently for Shaundi to get in. She was standing still just outside the window, and I could almost see her shaking her head at me.

Once she finally sat down, she tried to protest again. "Boss, come-"

"This phone, it will show me to the armory, yes?" I said, staring at the bright little screen in my hand. I missed the days when mobile phones had pushable buttons, and you could close them when you were done. Phones now seem to have a hidden Yeva proof button that changes the screen anytime I touch it, not to mention if I look at it wrong the glass cracks into a million pieces.

"Yes. It will." It was just three words, said calmly between friends, but I could feel every word she wanted to say to me hidden in the cracks.

I sighed, wiping my bandana across the exterior of the phone, clearing it of any non-existent smudges. I must be going soft because I wasn't able to ignore the emotion rolling off of her like I normally do.

"You do not have to come unless you want to. I'm sure you have some ex here that can take care of you until I return." I meant it to be a joke, but the words came out with more contempt than I expected. That same flash of sadness from earlier settled across her face, her eyes searching mine. For what, I couldn't be sure.

I tried to backpedal. "Shaundi, I-"

"Of course I'm coming with you. You'll die without me." I could hear the humor in her voice, but there was no sign of it on her face. She moved her gaze forward to look out the windshield as I started off towards the island that housed the armory.

"Who was it that just saved who from their little pirouette in the sky? Hmm?" That earned me a quiet chuckle and a smile, but I knew I wasn't out of the water yet.


End file.
